Strength of the Heart
by VegasGoddess
Summary: GSR Even a simple, unexpected breakfast couldn't be easy for Grissom and Sara, could it?


**Title:** Strength of the Heart

**Summary:** Even a simple, unexpected breakfast couldn't be easy for Grissom and Sara, could it?

**Spoilers:** The Pilot; Cool Change; Scooba Doobie Doo; Invisible Evidence; Butterflied; Early Rollout; Getting Off

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in regards to CSI or the geeks. Maybe for Christmas...?

**Author's Note:** IT'S SEASON THIRTEEN PREMIERE DAAAAAAAAAY! So damn excited you don't even know. Plus today is my half birthday, woohoo! Best sort of gift ever. It's like they KNEW. Anyway... This takes place in season four, about three quarters of the way through the season. Look out for the angst. I hope you all like this one, I really do. Read and review, please!

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_"Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength." - Corrie Ten Boom_

It had been a long shift, and Sara was tired. She wanted to go home, take a hot shower and go to bed, but her stomach was growling and she knew she had no food in the house. That was why she trudged over to the tiny diner she had discovered one morning years ago, after getting hopelessly lost in the city, having just moved there.

Settling down in a corner booth near the back window, she picked up the faded menu and pursued her options. There weren't many; after all it was just a small greasy Vegas diner. That's what she liked about it though. It was far enough away from the Strip that no tourists stepped within twenty miles of it, and far enough away from her home and the lab that there was no chance of running into someone from work.

A middle aged waitress named Suzanne waltzed up and took her order, and left Sara to her thoughts.

**OoOoOoOoO**

It had been a long and exhausting night, with each of his team members taking on their own case. Grissom was beat, and wanted to go home. Halfway there, he remembered his sparse pantry and even emptier refrigerator. Sighing heavily, he turned his car around and headed for his favorite diner, on the opposite end of town.

He'd come across it a few years ago, after a difficult case and turbulent change in the lab. It was out of the way; far enough from the Strip to not be overrun with tourists, and far enough away from both the lab and his townhouse that there was no chance of running into anyone from work.

He sat down in a booth near the back corner, picking up his menu even though he already knew what he would order. His waitress sidled up and smiled down at him. Her name tag read Suzanne. Without referring to his menu, he spoke. "Coffee with two creams, no sugar, fried eggs with a side of veggies, and a side of hash browns."

Suzanne jotted it down on her notebook and chuckled. "Funny," she said. "That young woman over there just ordered the exact same thing." She pointed over Grissom's shoulder and then walked away.

He discreetly turned in the direction his waitress had pointed, and froze. Just two booths over from his, sat Sara Sidle. She was staring out the window when he approached. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do or say when she turned her gaze back to the diner and yelped in surprise.

"Dammit Grissom! What the hell are you doing!?"

He flinched at her words. "I... uhm... I saw..."

She glared at him. "Grissom. I am exhausted from my case. I've been awake for twenty five hours straight. Is there something you WANT?"

He stared at her blankly, unable to find the words. Sara let out an exasperated sigh. "Obviously you're here for the same reason I am. Food. So sit down. There's no need for us to both be here and pretend that we don't know each other."

He nodded. "You're right. Absolutely right." He clumsily slid into the booth opposite her, and watched as she picked up her napkin and nervously played with it. "How is your case going?" he asked after a moment.

"The hell if I know," she said, dropping the napkin and leaning forward, placing her chin in her hand. "Doc says overdose, but there were no pills at the scene and I couldn't find any empty prescription bottles anywhere in the house. When I go in later I'll check with her doctors to see if they have any explanations."

Grissom nodded. "Very good."

She stared blankly back, and let her hand drop back down to the table where she began to play with her napkin again. "So how was your case?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Pretty open and shut, actually."

She looked up from her napkin for him to elaborate, but he made no move to do so, and an awkward silence fell over them. Just as it was becoming unbearable for Sara, Suzanne walked up with a look of confusion on her face at Grissom not being where she had left him.

"Here's your coffee, m'am," she said as she set it down in front of Sara. She turned to Grissom then and said, "You are not where I left you."

He smiled a boyish smile at her that made Sara's heart melt and said, "I know, I'm sorry. I just saw Sara over here and decided she shouldn't eat alone."

"You two know each other?"

"We do," he replied. "We work together, at the Crime Lab."

Suzanne nodded. "Very nice. I'll bring your coffee out in a moment, so don't you dare play anymore musical chairs with me!"

Grissom smiled at her again and promised not to while Sara mumbled a thank you, before she turned back to the kitchen. He then returned his attention back to Sara, who was holding her coffee with both hands and blowing on it to cool it down. "So how did you find this place?" he asked. "It's so far away from the lab, and your apartment."

She looked up at him then, a smirk crossing her face. "I could ask you the same thing."

He grinned. "Touché. Well, I found it a few years ago, after... after Holly died, actually." His grin faded and he looked out the window. "I've been coming here ever since, but usually only after hard cases."

Suzanne reappeared, setting Grissom's coffee down in front of him. "Food will be out in a moment, folks," she said.

"Thank you," Grissom said.

Sara waited for her to be out of earshot before saying, "I thought you said your case today was open and shut?"

He nodded, bringing the coffee to his lips. "It is. Sometimes I come just for the food. I knew there was nothing at home so I figured I'd drop by here. Never in a million years would I have expected to run into you though." He regarded her warmly over his coffee. "Your turn now. How did you find this place?"

She set her coffee down just as he took the first sip of his. "I actually stumbled upon it by accident too, after we wrapped up Holly's case. I got hopelessly lost in the city and just when I was about to give up on ever finding my way back to my hotel, I drove past and realized how hungry I was. It's got good food, like you said. And I've been coming here ever since. It was my own little sanctuary. I thought there was no chance I'd run into anyone from work."

It was Grissom's turn to smirk. "This is Vegas, baby," he said, quoting their friend Warrick. "There's no such thing as chance."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing, for at that moment Suzanne came up and placed their food down on the table. "Enjoy, folks," she said with a smile and left them to their food.

Grissom's grin was back. "I can't believe we ordered the same thing."

Sara smiled in return as she dug in. "Neither can I. This is the only vegetarian dish on the menu. I would have bet on you ordering some sort of meat, whether it be bacon, or sausage, or ham..."

He shrugged, his mouth full of eggs. Swallowing, he replied, "Didn't feel like it. I was looking for something a little lighter this morning. How's yours?"

She groaned slightly with appreciation. "Fantastic. Don't know how that works: this tiny little diner having amazing food."

"It's something about Vegas," he replied.

Suzanne was back, asking them how everything was tasting. "Good," they replied together, a little tired of her constant interruptions. She nodded and promised to only return again to bring their bill.

A silence fell over them then, not quite comfortable but not as awkward as their silences of the past year or so. For a few moments the only noise coming from them was the sound of forks and knives against plates, and small sips of coffee. Then, Grissom broke it with a softly uttered, "How are you, Sara?"

She looked up from her plate, fork frozen halfway to her mouth. She blinked, then set her fork down. "I'm fine, Grissom."

He pursed his lips and set his blue gaze on her. "I mean really. You seem run down lately. Tired. Sad. Do you... need some time off?"

He watched as anger and annoyance flashed through her eyes. "Have you been talking to Brass?" she questioned.

This threw him. "What? No, why?"

She looked down. "Nothing. No reason. I'm fine Grissom."

"Sara..."

"Grissom. I am _fine_." She emphasized it with a glare over her coffee mug. "I show up to work every day, I work my cases the best I can and I go home. Just like you do."

"I know that, Sara, I do. I just... worry about you. I worry that you're not taking care of yourself, that you'll burn out." He took a deep breath. "You're much too young for that, Sara," he whispered.

She couldn't believe his audacity. She had been stunned into silence by his uncharacteristic show of concern. _So much for over talking around him_, she thought bitterly. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to respond. Slowly, she whispered just as quietly as he had, "It's a little too late to be showing concern, don't you think?"

She watched as his eyes grew wide with shock, then anger, and finally a deep, raw pain. He blinked and his emotions were closed off from her once more. "Sara... I didn't mean..."

She set her mug down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "What, Grissom? You didn't mean to show some concern? You didn't mean to act like you care about me? You didn't mean to come over here and have breakfast with me? You didn't what?" His jaw worked furiously to come up with an adequate reply, but as usual, words failed him in his moment of need. "Right." She nodded, and edged out of the booth, slipping into her jacket as she did so. "Well this was..." She ran a hand through her hair and gestured to their table. She sighed. "I'll see you tonight." She turned on her heel and rushed out the door, leaving Grissom stunned at the table. He glanced around the diner and pulled out his wallet, throwing down a couple twenties and followed behind her.

He caught up with her in the parking lot much faster than he had anticipated, and leaned heavily against the side of her car when he found her. "Sara," he breathed. She already had her door open, and he stepped closer, effectively trapping her against the car. His left hand held the door, while his other was pressed against the side, right next to her neck. They were only inches apart.

"I said I'd see you tonight, Grissom," she whispered into the cool early morning air.

"I know. And you ran before I could apologize," he replied. She wouldn't meet his gaze; apparently there was something incredibly interesting on the ground right next to her feet, but he saw her eyebrow rise in silent question. "Earlier, Sara... I didn't mean to insinuate that you couldn't do your job. I would never in a million years accuse you of being anything but dedicated. I was merely expressing my concern for your well-being."

He'd lifted his hand from the door and placed it agonizingly close to her hip, and she could not believe how much of her concentration had gone out the window because of his sudden nearness. It was just like when he'd pinned her down against that damn sheet, and her mind was as blank as it had been then. He continued softly, "I didn't mean to offend you in any way, honey. I'm... I'm sorry if I did." He hung his head in defeat. "But like I said, I worry about you sometimes. I care..." he trailed off in a whisper so quiet she wasn't sure she'd heard the last part properly.

She turned to look at him finally, brown eyes meeting blue. She nearly drowned looking into his eyes, but caught herself. What he'd said had hurt, but he had actually come after her, and _apologized_. She couldn't just ignore that. The look in his eyes told her he was sincere, too. And there was the fact that he was standing so agonizingly close. If she shifted to the right, he'd grasp her hip. If she shifted to the left, he'd be able to slip a hand behind her neck, and bring her lips to his... She saw something shift in his eyes and he pulled back suddenly, removing his hands from her car and stuffing them into his pockets. A crushing disappointment filled her heart as a blast of cool air enveloped her. She shivered.

It was his turn to look at the ground, and she heard him mumble something about seeing her later that night at work. He turned to walk away, but she called after him. "Grissom..." He turned back, and he was still in reach, just outside of her personal bubble. She reached for him, her palm finding the soft hair of his beard. It was such a different sensation from the last time she'd done it, when it had been smooth skin under her fingertips. Almost immediately, she decided she liked the stubble much better. She could feel his jaw clench under her palm, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he just watched her with sad eyes. "It doesn't have to be this way," she whispered.

He raised his own hand to cover hers for the slightest of moments, and whispered back, "I know." Gently he pried her fingers from his face and let them fall back down to her side. He stepped back, out of her personal bubble, and out of reach. He backed away through the parking lot, not turning his back on her until he absolutely had to.

She watched him retreat with a heavy sadness in her heart, and wondered just how she was supposed to face him that night at work. Climbing into her car, she told herself she had to. It was getting harder, and deep down she knew his worries about her burn out were not entirely uncalled for. She could only hope it would stay under wraps, and he wouldn't become involved again. She wasn't sure she could handle it, and the thought of falling apart in front of him shamed her like nothing else. No, she needed to be strong. For her own sanity, she needed to be strong. And hopefully, she would be.

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**-end- **

Let the countdown to the premiere begin!


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